


The Promise

by crushondeanlikeafairy



Category: S.W.A.T. (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Post-Canon, Revenge, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25580710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushondeanlikeafairy/pseuds/crushondeanlikeafairy
Summary: The night the drug bust went down, Teague Nolan had made Jim Street a promise. You didn't think he was going to break it. Did you?
Relationships: Jim Street/Molly Hicks
Kudos: 34





	The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven't written in 3 months. Yikes. I got a case of the stressies and depressies but I'm feeling better now.  
> I was actually working on a one-shot for the Fictober thing I really should be finishing lol but then I got this idea for a longer story from it, so that'll have to wait a bit. In the meantime, enjoy this monstrosity. >:)  
> It's gonna be a couple of chapters. Probably 3? We'll see. Lemme know what you think. :)

One right after the other. Hit after hit, and it was getting harder to get back to his feet. Halfway through the year and there was no doubt about it, it was a verified shitshow. He wasn’t surprised really, New Year’s had come and gone while he worked the undercover op from hell. He should have known then that things could only get worse. But, foolishly, he had taken it as a sign that things could only go up from there. Of course, then he’d still believed he could get Nate out of Nolan’s operation alive. It had only taken a few days for him to be proven wrong. For him to once again make a fool of himself for believing in anything.

It wasn’t his fault really, he knew that deep down. But the voice that told him that was too quiet to be heard over the pounding in his head that swore he should have done better. Nate might still be alive right now if he had done any number of things differently. It was a dangerous rabbit hole to go down, he knew that, but the fall was so exhilarating. It had taken him weeks to even begin to feel like himself again, to not hear that nagging voice in his head every waking hour of every day.

He’d finally started to feel better. Then Buck went missing.

He’d thank the few lucky stars he had that they’d managed to get to him in time. But that didn’t stall the  _ what-if _ game he’d play with himself in bed at night when he should have been sleeping. The signs had been there. They had to have been. And none of them, not even him, had seen them until it was nearly too late. If they’d lost Buck, it would have been his fault. It was another failure to live with. Another worry. And they were becoming so many.

It seemed that life, though sometimes it felt like just his life, was destined to go like that. Pain, recovery, and then right back round to pain. A vicious cycle he could never seem to escape. Whenever he was sure he’d found his equilibrium again, it felt like whatever deity watched over them would grab hold and spin him around.

He should have known then that it was coming. Buck finally seemed like he was doing better and that life would return to normal. But life didn’t work that way and it was just another failure. Just another worry.

It had been a beautiful morning. He’d had the rare opportunity to sleep in, rising naturally with the sun as her first rays shone through the bedroom curtains. He’d rolled over to bury his head underneath his pillow, savoring the last few moments of sleep before he had to get out of bed. Movement beside him caused him to lift the pillow off his eyes, greeted by Molly’s smiling face.

“Sleep well?” she asked, her voice rough and her eyes still drowsy.

He nodded, bringing a hand to the side of her face, letting his finger rest behind her ear as he ran them through her hair. “You’re beautiful.”

Her smile widened and she shut her eyes, letting out a soft breath. “You’re just saying that so I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “I do love the way you make french toast.”

Molly laughed, smacking his shoulder softly as she rolled away from him and out of the bed. “Fine, but you’re paying for coffee later.”

He pushed the covers off him, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “I will gladly accept that deal,” he called after her as he bent down to pick his shirt up off the carpet.

Street ended up helping her make breakfast, cracking some eggs in a frying pan for a couple helpings of scrambled eggs. It was nice. Peaceful. As he listened to her hum her favorite song while she mixed the ingredients, he felt the stress of the workweek melt from his body. He hardly noticed the little smile on his lips as he removed the pan from the burner and separated the eggs into two servings.

She took over the burner as soon as he was done, laying her slices of bread out on a new frying pan. A knock sounded from the front door and she paused, glancing over her shoulder.

“Would you mind getting that?” she asked, looking down at her pan pointedly.

“Yea, sure,” he said, kissing her cheek quickly before heading for the door.

Opening the door, he began a customary ‘good morning’ before recognizing the person standing on the other side of the door and stopping cold. The breath left his body and he took an instinctive step back, ready to shut the door if he had to.

“You know, you really should look through that peephole before opening the door,” the man said, a smug smile on his face.

“Nolan,” Street breathed and, because he couldn’t think of anything else, he asked what felt like the most pressing question, “How did you get out of prison?”

“Jim?” Molly called from the kitchen, “Who is it?”

Teague Nolan brought a finger to his mouth and shushed him, before curling it and gesturing for Street to step into the hall. Street hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder into the apartment before calling back, “They’re here for me. Just a minute.” He hoped she wouldn’t question too much why visitors for Street were showing up at her apartment when they hadn’t told anyone he was here, but he’d deal with that later if it came up. Against his better judgment, he stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

“How did you get out of prison?” he repeated, his hands clenched into fists at his side in an effort to hide the sudden shaking that had overtaken them.

“I have a good lawyer. I got an appeal,” he answered nonchalantly, “Turns out the evidence against me was circumstantial.”

“We had video footage.”

“Of me entering a room, with someone else, I might add. My lawyer was able to convince the judge he was just as likely to have pulled the trigger as me. It probably didn’t help that the arresting officer was the brother of the man I supposedly killed. The judge was very interested to hear about that conflict of interest. Honestly, I’m surprised I was even convicted in the first place.”

Nolan’s slow, mocking drawl was grating on Street’s nerves. He finally snapped, “What are you doing here? I thought if you ever escaped you’d make a run for it.”

Nolan stopped his rambling, looking at Street with faux surprise on his face. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m keeping my promise.”

Street tensed, pulling his shoulders back as he stepped in front of the door.

“Oh, relax,” Nolan said, “She’s not next. There’s plenty other fruit I can pick from that tree first.”

“Why not just kill me? Huh? If I pissed you off so much, why not just get it over with?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Nolan asked. He the light, almost jovial look slipped off his face as he suddenly got deadly serious. He took a threatening step toward Street who, for his part, managed to hold his ground. He stood tall, looking Nolan in the eye. “No,” Nolan continued, “I promised you I would finish you, and I plan to. But only after you watch everyone you love be put in the ground.”

Street’s nostrils flared as his chest heaved, struggling to breathe. Nothing was stopping him from killing Nolan right now. Stopping it before it even began. He may go down for murder, but at least his family would be safe. Except he didn’t know who else was here. He was fairly certain Nolan was armed and he knew for certain that he wasn’t. He couldn’t know Molly wouldn’t get hurt. Still…

Before he could come to a decision, his phone rang from the front pocket of his jeans, the shrill noise snapping through the quiet tension that had been building. Nolan smirked, stepping back.

“You gonna answer that?”

Street reached into his pocket, keeping his eyes trained on his enemy. He glanced down at the caller I.D., frowning slightly. He pressed the device to his ear. “Tan?”

“Street,” the other man answered. He sounded out of breath. Flustered. Nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Deac,” Tan exclaimed, “He’s been shot!”

Street didn’t even ask questions, they didn’t matter right now. “What hospital?”

“Cedars-Sinai.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Street hung up and shoved the phone angrily back in his pocket. “You- He was at-”

“Home. With his family. I know,” Nolan said, an insincere grimace on his face. “Hope it didn’t scare them too much.”

“You bastard!” Street seethed, grabbing the collar of Nolan’s jacket and slamming him into the opposite wall. “If you-”

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt his kids. I’m not that heartless. Though that’s not to say they aren’t off the table if you don’t behave,” Nolan said. He turned his eyes down at Street’s hands on his coat, then back up to his adversary’s face. “This. This is not behaving.”

Street reluctantly released Nolan, stepping back a few steps.

“I’d get down to the hospital if I were you,” Nolan said, straightening out his jacket. “See ya around, Street.”

He waited until Nolan was through the door to the stairwell and out of sight before turning around and rushing back into Molly’s apartment. She was sitting at the dining room table doing some work on her computer, breakfast untouched as she’d waited for him.

“Hey,” she said, looking up from her screen briefly before returning her attention to what she’d been typing. “What took so long? Breakfast got cold.”

“Deac. He’s in the hospital,” Street said quickly, searching frantically for his leather jacket. The coat itself he could afford to leave behind, but the pocket held the keys to his motorcycle.

“What?” she exclaimed, her project forgotten as she shot out of her chair. “What happened?”

“He was shot,” he answered, frantically moving into the bedroom in the hopes he’d left it in there. “Damn it! Where are my keys?”

“Forget it, I’ll drive,” Molly said, her voice back to a carefully crafted calm. She grabbed her purse from the side table by the front door. “Let’s go. Come on.”

She held the front door open as he ran out of the bedroom, rushing past her into the hall. The door slammed shut behind her as she followed after him.

It was only a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, but each minute felt like it’s own separate eternity. Stretching on endlessly. He didn’t even know how bad it was. He hadn’t asked. Each second was torture as he went through the varying scenarios in his head. Each worst than the last. Deac paralyzed just like after the Love All festival. Except, his time recovery isn’t an option. Deac fading and each second taking the last chance he’d have to see his friend again. They each got worse and worse and he was so consumed with his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized his left hand was shaking where it rested on his knee. Not until Molly reached out and gripped it tight in her own. It startled him. He jerked his head toward her, catching the sideways glance she gave him. The right side of her mouth quirked up encouragingly and she turned her attention back to the road. He went back to watching the road signs, each one bringing him closer to his friend. But when his mind wandered again, he was able to bring it back with the grounding presences of Molly’s hand in his.

When they finally made it to the hospital, he was ready to begin the frantic search for the right room. But he found it unnecessary when he entered the waiting room and saw his team sitting together in the two center rows of chairs. Hicks was there too and he rose from his seat when he saw his daughter, wrapping her in his arms and clinging tightly.

“It’s gonna be okay, Dad,” she said softly, rubbing her palms up and down his back.

Street went to meet his team, taking the empty seat beside Chris, facing Hondo directly across from him. “What happened?”

Hondo shook his head, letting out a bone-tired breath. “A drive-by. Annie and Deac were out for a morning walk. This black sedan came around the corner and opened fire. Annie says it looked like they were just aiming for Deac.”

“How is he?” Street asked urgently.

“He was in surgery,” Chris answered. She was leaning forward, her forearms pressed into her knees and she fiddles with her thumbs. She didn’t look up when she spoke. “Annie said it was pretty touch and go for a while. But the doctors said he’s going to pull through.”

Street let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding, leaning forward and mimicking her position. He was just using it as an excuse to clench his hands together. The shaking was beginning to grate on his nerves. “Where is Annie?”

“In with Deac,” Luca answered from beside Hondo. “They said only direct family can go in.”

Under normal circumstances, Street would have found the bitter tone in Luca’s voice funny. Today though, he felt as though he may never find anything funny again. “The kids?”

“They’re with Annie’s mom,” Tan answered, sitting on Chris’s other side. “She went to the house to keep an eye on them.”

“Why would someone do this?” Chris asked, the rage coating her voice almost palpable. “Who would target Deac like that? With his family standing right there!”

“We’re gonna find out,” Hondo promised, his own voice harboring barely concealed anger. “Annie is gonna talk to a sketch artist soon, she thinks she saw the shooter. And we can canvas the neighborhood. See if anyone has one of those doorbells with a camera. Hopefully, we can get a plate. We’re gonna find this bastard and I’m gonna make sure he pays for hurting a member of my family.”

_ Tell them _ , Street’s conscience was telling him. He knew he had to, but he didn’t know how. He opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come. What was he supposed to say? Where do you even begin with something like that? No, he’d have to find a better way. So instead, he sat there, nervously tapping his foot against the ground. The energy he was refusing to let out through his hand redirecting and escaping through his leg.

“Street?” Hondo asked, “You okay?”

Street sighed. Leave it to Hondo to catch him hiding something. Now was his chance. He’d been given his opening. “I-” he started, gears turning as he searched for the right words. The words that would hopefully let his friends know the danger they were all in, but not drive them away when they realized it was his fault. “I’m, I’m fine,” he said finally, tilting his head up to look at Hondo and shooting him a tense smile.

“Uh-huh,” Hondo said, reaching forward and smacking Street’s hands apart. “That why your hands are shaking?”

Street grimaced when he saw the rest of the team look at him. He sat up, putting his traitorous hands in his lap. He squeezed his left hands between the thumb and forefinger of his right, eyes intently focused on this activity instead of the sets of eyes now trained on him. He should have known better than to sit where Hondo could directly see him. “I’m worried about Deac.”

“No,” Chris said thoughtfully, looking him over. “You’re hiding something.”

And he should have known better than to sit where Chris could directly see him. Maybe he just shouldn’t have come. Maybe if he distanced himself from them all Nolan might buy that he doesn’t care about them. Maybe he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else.

Her intense gaze bored into him and it became too much, even though he could only see her out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his head and turned away from them completely.

“Street?” Hondo asked. His voice wasn’t unkind but there was that subtle threatening tone he often got when he knew he wasn’t being told the whole story. When he knew someone was trying to sell him bullshit.

It felt wrong. It felt wrong to tell them right now. Deacon needed them. It felt like robbery almost. To sit here in the waiting room because Deacon had been shot for crying out loud and to tell them the man who’d put him through so much a few months before showed up at his doorstep that morning. It wasn’t selfish though, he had to remind himself. Nolan had threatened  _ them _ . They needed to know. Already, one of them was laying in a hospital bed.

The fear that he’d lose them if he told them was insignificant. If he didn’t tell them about the target on their backs, they risked being gunned down with no way of protecting themselves. He’d lose them. If he told them about Nolan, that someone was trying to kill them because of  _ him _ , they’d leave. He’d lose them. But at least that way, they’d maybe make it out alive.

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. Finally, turning back to them he confessed to the floor, “I know who shot Deac.”

There was dead silence for so long that Street started to wonder if he’d spoken loud enough. After what felt like an eternity, Luca prompted him to continue with an aptly placed, “How?”

Street checked around for Molly, finding both her and her father gone. He wasn’t sure where they’d disappeared to, though his guess was the cafeteria since she’d missed breakfast. He didn’t care where they’d gone so long as she was safe. He just wanted to be able to talk to her privately later. Preferably before Hicks was also apprised of the fact that Street had put his daughter’s life in danger.

“Nolan showed up at Molly’s door this morning.”

He knew he wouldn’t need to remind them who Nolan was, despite the fact that case was six months ago now.

“Nolan? Like  _ Nolan _ Nolan?” Tan asked, leaning forward in his seat to see around Chris. “He’s in prison.”

“Not anymore,” Street mumbled.

“Hold on. Back up,” Hondo said, “Why was he at Molly’s apartment? What did he want?”

“And what does it have to do with Deac?” Luca added.

“In January, that night of the big bust, he was onto me. He promised if I crossed him, he would finish me. And everyone I love,” he answered quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. When he lifted his head to look around at the group, he managed to make his voice a little louder. “He managed to get his conviction overturned somehow, and now he’s back to keep his promise. He sent someone after Deac and he’s probably going to send someone after all of you too.”

“This is so not how I was expecting my day off to go,” Tan muttered, sitting back in his chair.

“Me neither,” Street said bitterly, picking at his nails. “I’m… I’m sorry. I was just trying to protect my brother and I ended up putting all of you in danger.”

“You can’t seriously think this is your fault?” Chris asked incredulously.

“For starters, yeah.”

“Street,” Luca said, “Nobody can fault you for trying to protect your family.”

“Except I failed, didn’t I?” Street said angrily. “Nate is dead and now you’re all in danger. Deac is…” He couldn’t find the words to describe the mess that was going on with Deacon, so he gestured helplessly over his shoulder in the general direction he believed Deacon’s hospital room to be.

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Chris said.

“I could have,” he insisted.

Hondo caught the dark look in his eye and rose from his seat, waving for Street to follow him. “Take a walk with me. Come on.”

Street reluctantly rose as well, following Hondo down the hallway. They got into the elevator but it wasn’t until they reached the bottom floor and stepped into the lobby that Hondo finally spoke.

“I know what you’re thinking and I want you to stop thinking it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Street said obtusely.

“You think you should have gone through with killing Nolan.”

Street was quiet for a moment if only to spite Hondo for being right. Finally, he turned to glance at Hondo. “Maybe I should have. Maybe not. I don’t know. But I do know that none of this would be happening right now if I had.”

Hondo held open the front door to the hospital, letting Street past him before following him out onto the sidewalk. “You’d be in prison right now if you had. You would have ruined your life.”

“I don’t care,” Street said earnestly. The pair stepped to the side of the door, out of the way of foot traffic. Street learned against the window behind him, putting his hands in his pockets. “I would rather die than be the reason anyone I love gets hurt. Prison is nothing. My life is nothing.”

Hondo, for all his wisdom he loved to share, didn’t seem to have a response to that. He looked out to the car passing by on the street. “I need you to promise me you won’t kill Nolan.”

“Hondo, I can’t make that promise.”

“Then you’re not working this. You’re going to sit it out and let us handle it.”

“Hondo!”

Hondo turned to look at him slowly, his face level as he spoke. “Street, I don’t like this situation any more than you do. But I cannot stand back and let you destroy the life I’ve watched you work so hard to build. We’ll do this the right way.”

“I did it the right way before,” Street said desperately. “I came to you for help. I worked the case. I wasn’t doing it to bring down a drug ring. I was just doing it to protect my brother. It didn’t work. We didn’t get Nolan on drug charges. We got him for Nate’s murder. My brother had to die for us to succeed. And that didn’t even stick. He’s back and he’s hunting me. He’s hunting  _ us. _ ”

“Street,” Hondo said, his voice calm and steady. Street wished he knew how to do that. “I know-”

He said something, but Street didn’t hear what it was. A black car speeding through the traffic caught his attention. It slowed down as it got in front of the hospital and the back window rolled down. Before Street could even think, he grabbed Hondo and yanked him toward him. They landed hard on the ground, a fraction of a second before the sound of gunshots rang through the air. The glass behind them shattered, and Street put his hands over his head to protect himself from the shower. People started screaming and scattered, the previously busy sidewalks emptying as bystanders took cover. It was all over in a matter of seconds and by the time Street looked up the car was gone, skidding around the corner.

Street looked to Hondo, chest heaving as he pushed his chest up off the ground. “You were saying?”

Hondo jumped to his feet, putting a hand down to help Street up. “Did you get a good look at the car?”

“Camry,” Street answered breathlessly, “Black Toyota Camry. It was old. A 98? I didn’t catch the plate.”

Hondo grabbed Street’s sleeve and pulled for him to follow as they ran inside, getting cover in case the assailant came back around. They ducked against the wall inside and Hondo pulled out his walkie. “This is 20-David to command. Reporting an active shooter at Cedars-Sinai in Beverly Grove. Heading East on Beverly Boulevard.”

“Security footage,” Street said, pointing toward the reception desk. Hondo nodded to acknowledge he heard him and he was off.

Hondo joined him a few minutes later after completing his call-in. Street was bent over the computer skimming through the footage but he stood up soon, slamming his hand into the desk.

“Car didn’t have a plate,” he explained.

Hondo cursed under his breath. The elevator dinged then, the rest of the team exiting into the lobby with Molly and Commander Hicks behind them.

“Jim!” Molly shouted, running over and crashing into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said, hugging her back lightly. He was too tense to let himself relax into her embrace like he usually would.

“They told me what’s going on,” Hicks said, gesturing to the others. “This shooting Nolan too?”

“Didn’t see who was in the car but we can only assume he’s at least behind it,” Hondo said.

“And he probably knows where we all live,” Luca pointed out. “He was at Molly’s apartment and Deac was shot outside his home.”

“Great,” Tan muttered under his breath. His head shot up suddenly and he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m gonna check on Bonnie.”

Tan wandered off to make his call. Street removed himself from Molly’s embrace, stepping to the side. He let her continue to cling to his arm, however.

“What are we going to do?” he asked. “It’s not safe for any of us to go home.”

“We’re gonna have to go back to HQ to work this anyway, we’ll be safe there. In the meantime, nobody goes out without a partner. I’m implementing the buddy system.”

“Molly,” Hicks said, “I’m getting you into a safe house. And I’m putting two officers on your detail until this is over.”

She opened her mouth to dispute him, obviously preparing some argument about how she didn’t need protection. But he held up his hand to stop her.

“No arguments. It’s happening.”

“It’s a good idea,” Street said, looking down at her. “We need to know you’re safe.”

Molly sighed, nodding her approval.

“Street,” Hondo said, “Make a list. All the people who aren’t here at this hospital that could be a target for Nolan.”

“There’s not too many…” he said thoughtfully. “Buck!”

Street pulled his phone from his pocket from his front pocket, quickly dialing Buck’s number. He pressed the phone to his ear, anxiously biting his lower lip as he listened to it ring. It rang on and on until finally, a tone sounded. Before he could speak, the voicemail message began to play. He growled and shoved it back in his pocket.

“He’s not answering.”

Hondo nodded, “Come on. We’ll check on him. The rest of you, get Tan and get back to the precinct.”

“Everybody stay there until further notice,” Hicks added.

They all nodded their understanding. Street had to extricate his arm from Molly’s grasp, bending down to kiss her cheek.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised.

Hondo headed off toward the parking garage at a swift pace, Street hot on his heels. They hopped into Hondo’s Charger and he revved the engine, backing out quicker than was strictly safe and speeding out of the parking garage, sirens blasting. Neither of them spoke as they drove, both just hoping they weren’t too late.


End file.
